


Not Tomorrow, Not Today

by WarpingAshes



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Amica Endurae, Angst, Conjunx Endura, Drama, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarpingAshes/pseuds/WarpingAshes
Summary: When Drift is injured on a mission, unintended consequences play havoc on the Lost Light crew, a weary medic in particular.
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock & Rodimus | Rodimus Prime, Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Comments: 58
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

Ultra Magnus burst into the medbay, covered in energon that wasn’t his own and clutching a severely injured mech in his arms. Though Ratchet had been expecting Magnus, nothing could have fully prepared him for the sight of Drift steadily bleeding out in the larger mech’s arms. He’d been notified of Drift’s injuries, but in person? It was much worse than he’d anticipated.

Drift was entirely unresponsive, laying limp in Magnus’ arms. Not a good sign. Ratchet hurriedly ushered Magnus towards the operating room and instructed him to lay Drift carefully on the medberth. First Aid and Velocity already had everything they’d need prepped and ready to go. Ratchet took a deep sigh and turned to get a better look at Drift, once he was situated.

Blown optic, multiple bullet wounds and deep cuts, one of his arms had been blown clean off and it looked like half a leg had gone with it; based on how beaten up his helm was, Ratchet wouldn’t be surprised if there was mild to severe processor damage. The energon loss had only served to make Drift fall unconscious, so maybe that one was a small saving grace. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel the extent of his injuries.

“Thank you for bringing him so quickly, Ultra Magnus.” First Aid said, “We’ll take it from here and update you on his condition.”

Magnus thanked the medics quickly and left. Now, the real work began. First Aid jumped into business mode, giving orders that would help get Drift stabilized. Velocity quickly hooked Drift up to an energon drip while Ratchet worked on closing the worst of his open wounds. All the while, Drift didn’t move an inch. Didn’t twitch in pain, didn’t show any signs of discomfort. It wasn’t a good sign, but Ratchet pushed that thought to the back of his mind.

He needed to focus on his job, not the fact that it was _Drift_ he was operating on. It was harder than he’d expected it to be. It wasn’t like he’d never patched Drift up before, but it had never been this _bad._ Ratchet knew First Aid wouldn’t say it outright, but the mere facts were that there was a very high possibility Drift simply would not recover from his injuries.

There was a growing possibility that Ratchet could lose Drift. That he could lose his _conjunx._

*******

_The mission was supposed to be simple. Escort some alien diplomat from point A to point B, then return to the Lost Light and carry on with life. Rodimus had accepted the mission without thinking twice about it. The diplomat was nice enough, and he could kind of sympathize with the guy’s issue. Apparently his race was in the middle of a conflict and though he was travelling for peace negotiations, he would have to pass right through a known danger zone. Having just recently gotten out of a war, how could Rodimus say no to helping a peace effort?_

_“So anyways this guy just needs a few bodyguards and then we can go home. He said it’s pretty likely a peace treaty will be signed after this so we don’t have to escort him back.” Rodimus was explaining as the group he’d selected got ready for the upcoming mission. It would be a four man team consisting of Rodimus himself, Drift, Ultra Magnus, and Cyclonus._

_“And you’re sure it’ll be that easy?” Ratchet questioned skeptically. “Because things are easy for us all the time.”_

_“Things have calmed down!” Rodimus tried, “We’ve got a lucky streak going on and Drift says he had a good feeling about this, so we’ll be fine.”_

_“Right because Drift having a good feeling means it’ll go flawlessly.” Ratchet shook his head. “Just be careful. All of you.”_

_“We’ll be careful, Ratty.” Drift said, smiling softly and approaching his conjunx. He took Ratchet’s hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I appreciate the concern, but I really do have a good feeling about this mission.”_

_“You and your nicknames.” The medic grumbled, “And I’m not that concerned. I’m just not trying to reattach your arm or something after all of this is over.”_

_Rodimus snorted out a laugh._

_“How romantic. You really snagged yourself a winner, Drifter.” The red mech said, smirking._

_“Oh shut up.”_

_“No, no really, he’s such a sweetheart.” Rodimus teased. “When will someone tell me they don’t want to reattach my arm after a mission? That’s basically the way to get to my array!”_

_“Rodimus!” Ultra Magnus scolded. “Don’t be inappropriate.”_

_Rodimus rolled his optics but clearly wasn’t annoyed. It almost looked like he wanted to take Magnus’ comment as a challenge to be more inappropriate, but decided against it at the last minute._

_“Whoops, sorry I guess I sullied Cyclonus’ innocent audials.”_

_Cyclonus simply sighed and shook his head._

_“Can we just prepare for the mission?” Magnus asked, frowning. “Even if it is supposed to be simple, I would rather we be ready for things to go wrong.”_

_That seemed to be enough to get everyone back on track. They all knew Ultra Magnus was right to want to be prepared for the worst. Rodimus and Cyclonus went back to readying themselves to leave, while Drift said a quick goodbye to Ratchet. He leaned in and gave the medic a quick kiss on the cheek._

_“I’ll see you when I get back. I promise.”_

*******

Ratchet frowned at the memory. He guessed Drift had technically kept his promise, but this certainly wasn’t how Ratchet wanted him to do so. He was fast at work on Drift’s ruined optic while Velocity worked on what was left of Drift’s leg. First Aid was monitoring Drift’s vitals, but hadn’t said anything in a few minutes. It didn’t make Ratchet feel confident about the situation. Not one bit.

“Are you going to spit it out or what?” Ratchet asked, knowing Aid was trying to figure out how to tell him bad news.

First Aid sighed and faced Ratchet.

“There’s a chance this isn’t going to end well.” He said honestly. Ratchet appreciated that, if nothing else.

“I’ve deduced as much.” He said gruffly in response.

“Ratchet…” First Aid paused, catching the medic’s attention. “His vitals aren’t good. They aren’t staying steady. What I’m saying is--”

“I’m not going to let him die.” Ratchet cut him off quickly, feeling offended at what Aid could be suggesting. Sure, Drift was...well, in horrible shape, but he couldn’t possibly be trying to say he was a lost cause, could he?!

“I’m not saying we’re going to sit here and let him die. What I _am_ saying is that his condition could quickly go from how it is now, which isn’t _good_ by any means, to drastically worse without any notice.” Aid let out a frustrated huff, “I hate to say this but because of your bond with him, I’m not sure you should be involved in this.”

“Excuse me?”

“I have no way of knowing how you’ll react if his condition worsens.”

Ratchet frowned. It was...logical. For First Aid to worry about this. But Ratchet didn’t want to admit that to himself. He wanted to be there and help Drift. He wanted to fix things, not leave and be left unaware as to what was happening.

“I won’t let his condition get any worse then.” Ratchet said stubbornly.

“You know you can’t control this.”

Almost as if Primus was trying to prove a point, Drift’s vitals tanked in that very moment. At first Ratchet felt a pulling feeling right in his spark, but before he could even question it or make sense of it, it was gone and he was left with...nothing. He froze, unsure of how to react or process the feeling, or lack of feeling. It was so sudden, it was almost painful.

In a split second, he went from being able to at least sense Drift was alive to being unable to feel him at all. He blinked once, twice, before pure panic overtook him.

“His spark…” He muttered, optics going wide.

First Aid was already jumping into action, hooking Drift to various wires and machines, barking out orders at Velocity all the while. Ratchet tried to force himself to move, to do anything to be useful, but he couldn’t. All he could do was focus on the distinct _lack of Drift_ and the knowledge that if he couldn’t sense Drift _at all,_ that meant…

Drift’s spark had likely already extinguished.

*******

_Three minutes into the danger zone and the mission turned south. They were surrounded, and the enemies seem to have no interest in letting them pass by. Even if they had proof that they were there with good intentions._

_“We know about you Cybertronians,” One had said. “You aren’t welcome here.”_

_And that had been it. The first shot was fired, aimed right at Rodimus’ head. It would’ve surely taken him offline if Drift hadn’t stepped in and managed to push him out of the way...while taking part of the hit himself. Drift collapsed, clutching at the left side of his face and screaming in pain. Ultra Magnus stepped in, giving Rodimus enough cover to get Drift out of the line of fire._

_“What were you thinking!” Rodimus shouted when they were safely hidden away._

_Drift grunted, still tightly clutching at his face._

_“Woulda hit you.” He gritted out. “Couldn’t let that happen.”_

_“Drift…” Rodimus let out a curse, “You shouldn’t have done that. Let me...let me see, maybe I can help…”_

_Slowly, Drift pulled his hand away. It became obvious that Rodimus couldn’t fix the damage very quickly. His optic had been destroyed by the blast and energon was pouring from the wound. Rodimus helplessly lifted his hand to the wound, but quickly pulled them away knowing he could very well make it worse if he tried to help._

_“That bad, huh?” Drift asked, forcing a small smile. “Don’t worry about it, Roddy. It doesn’t hurt that bad anymore.”_

_“You’re a liar.”_

_Drift frowned and sighed._

_“Don’t worry about it. Seriously. It could have been worse.” Drift said, taking Rodimus’ hand in his. “Besides what kind of amica would I be if I let you get shot? The hit could’ve killed you, Roddy.”_

_Rodimus squeezed Drift’s hand tightly and closed his optics for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. They needed a plan. They were outnumbered and Magnus could only fight off so many bad guys to give them time._

_“Can you still fight?” Rodimus asked, hating himself as the question left his mouth._

_“I can. Let’s get back out there and help Cyclonus and Magnus.”_

_Rodimus nodded slowly, standing first then helping Drift up. Drift gripped his greatsword tightly in his hands, and even though his balance was very clearly off a bit, Rodimus let him lead the charge back to the battlefield._

_“On the count of three, ok? We’ll take them at the same time.”_

_“Gotcha,” Rodimus said, readying his blaster._

_One…_

_Two…_

**_Three._ **

*******

“Velocity get him out of here!”

“Ratchet, come on, you need to go…”

“Lotty hurry up!”

“I’m trying!”

Ratchet could barely make out the voices of First Aid and Velocity. All he could hear was the flat tone of the monitor Aid had hooked Drift up to affirming that yes, Drift’s spark had indeed flickered out. He felt hands tugging on him and leading him somewhere, and just let it happen. He couldn’t bring himself to fight it when he could barely bring himself to acknowledge the fact that Drift was...gone.

When he regained some form of awareness he realized he was in the waiting room right outside of the medbay. He wasn’t alone either, he noticed quickly. Rodimus and Ultra Magnus were some few feet away. Rodimus didn’t seem to be doing well. _Right,_ Ratchet realized, Rodimus would be feeling the break of his own bond with Drift as well.

“Doc? Hello? Helloooo?” Whirl’s voice caught Ratchet’s attention finally. “I’d ask if you’re ok but I already know the answer to that one. So I guess instead I should probably ask how bad it is.”

“Whirl?” Ratchet said dumbly, blinking slowly. Whirl was saying too much, too fast for him.

“And I’ll take that as a _‘very, very bad’_ with a side of _‘we might be looking at a funeral.’”_ Whirl sighed.

“Whirl.” Ultra Magnus scolded.

“What?” Whirl asked defensively. “I’m just trying to get some details. Rodimus hasn’t said anything in like ten minutes--”

“It hasn’t been nearly that long.” Magnus said sternly. “And you aren’t helping right now.”

Whirl sighed, long and heavy. He grumbled something crude that Magnus couldn’t hear and turned back to Ratchet.

“Ok so are you gonna say something or should I just assume Drift’s dead and we’ve got another funeral to plan.”

“Whirl!” Magnus was very quickly losing his patience, but Whirl’s crude attitude had gotten at least one of the other bots to snap out of the haze they were in.

“Drift’s not dead.” Rodimus said suddenly. “He’s not. He--He can’t be dead.”

Ultra Magnus frowned. As much as he wanted to believe his captain, he had seen the extent of Drift’s injuries up close. His armor was still stained with Drift’s energon. He’d seen the looks on the medic’s faces when he’d arrived with Drift… Magnus didn’t want to shoot down the small hope that Drift could pull through, but the chances certainly weren’t looking up. Especially not with Ratchet here and in such a bad state.

“Ratchet,” Rodimus turned to the medic, “Drift’s fine, right? He’s gonna be ok, isn’t he?”

“Kid...I…” Ratchet stumbled, feeling so unlike himself.

Rodimus looked at him with a broken look in his optics. Like he knew, deep down, the truth but just couldn’t face it yet.

“Ratchet!” The red mech shouted, voice cracking terribly. “I need you to tell me Drift is going to be ok!”

“I can’t, kid…” Ratchet forced out, shutting his optics tight.

Ratchet couldn’t bring himself to look at Rodimus when he heard the other mech start sobbing. It was unnatural. Rodimus was a lot of things and he’d been through so much, but he rarely broke down in front of others. He’d lost crew members before, he’d lost friends, but none of that held a candle to feeling one’s own amica perish.

“Rodimus…” Ultra Magnus tried to reach out to his captain, but was violently swatted away.

“Don’t. _Don’t.”_ Rodimus said shakily. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Rodimus--”

“Shut up! You don’t get it Mags, he can’t be dead…” Rodimus choked on a sob but forced himself to continue, “If he’s dead it’s my fault. I killed him, It’s all my fault--”

“You couldn’t have known.” Magnus insisted, “None of this was your fault.”

Whatever ounce of control Rodimus had left completely shattered. He collapsed against Magnus, shouting and crying and letting his anguish out entirely in a way Ratchet wished he could. Instead, Ratchet sat back, biting his lip so hard it almost bled, trying to keep his own emotions in. He couldn’t afford to break.

Not now.

*******

_“We need backup--” Cyclonus was shouting through the comms._

_Rodimus grunted in response, shooting at some nearby enemies before ducking for cover. He honestly had no idea where Cyclonus was anymore. He’d lost him in the swarm of aliens trying to tear them all limb from limb. He could only see Magnus due to his height, and Drift was close last Rodimus saw him._

_“I called for backup already!” Rodimus shouted back. “Whirl was supposed to be here by now!”_

_“Is it possible they caught on?” Cyclonus questioned, “They may be stalling him.”_

_“Whatever it is needs to not happen right now so Whirl can get here and we can win this thing!” Rodimus was getting increasingly frustrated with the situation. Things had gone south quicker than he could process and he was beginning to feel really, really guilty for insisting they take this mission. Good cause or not, this was beginning to feel not worth all the trouble._

_Rodimus took a look around the battlefield quickly as he reloaded his blaster. The enemies numbers were thinning out, but they were still badly outnumbered. All it would take was one slip up, one mistake and then--_

_He froze as he heard Drift scream nearby._

_Rodimus’ optics scanned the battle in a panic, trying to locate his amica so he could help. He felt a spike of pain and fear rising in his spark and honestly, he couldn’t tell how much of it he was feeling from Drift and how much was his own._

_“Drift?!” Rodimus commed him, “Where are you?”_

_He only got back another cry of pain and a beeping noise in response. What was the beeping? Where was it coming from? Rodimus turned frantically, optics searching desperately for his friend. He spotted him just a little too late._

_Drift was on his knees in a pool of his own energon, and above him stood one of the enemy soldiers, a device in his hand. A bomb, Rodimus realized slowly._

_“Drift!”_

_Rodimus tried to rush over to him, but was too late. He didn’t make it in time. He could save his amica. The blast went off just as Whirl arrived._

*******

Ratchet didn’t know how much time had passed. He didn’t care to know, really. Time was very unimportant to him in the grand scheme of things. The pain had let up but he still couldn’t sense Drift from the other end of his bond. It was like reaching for someone but a glass door was in front of them. Slowly, Ratchet came to guess that Drift wasn’t dead, not yet at least, but either their bond had been severely damaged by the close call or Drift was just barely hanging on anyways and death was inevitable.

Obviously, he’d take a damaged bond and alive Drift over the second option. They could fix their bond, in all likelihood. He couldn’t fix anything if Drift was dead. He looked over to Rodimus at the thought. He wouldn’t be able to fix the downward spiral Rodimus had already fallen into if Drift was no longer with them. Magnus had managed to calm Rodimus, but that wasn’t saying much. Rodimus had simply gone back to being nonverbal and Ratchet wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

Cyclonus had joined at some point, quietly informing Ultra Magnus that the escort had been a success, even if the rest of the mission was a colossal failure. Ratchet had been glad for Cyclonus’ presence. Whirl was much more bearable when Cyclonus or Tailgate were around.

As a relatively uncomfortable silence overcame the group, Ratchet was forced to think about what he would do if Drift was truly dead. It wasn’t uncommon for a Cybertronian who had lost their conjunx to quickly follow them to the grave. It was even more uncommon for surviving halves of a whole to go on and live happy, fulfilling lives after losing their loved one. Ratchet didn’t fancy himself another statistic.

It wasn’t what Drift would want for him anyways. He knew it, even if it was hard to think about. He sighed, looking over to Rodimus. He was worried. While he felt that, with time, perhaps he could become confident he wouldn’t be a risk to himself the same could not be said for Rodimus.

“Ratchet.” Rodimus’ voice startled him briefly.

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry. About everything.” The red mech practically whispered. “This is my fault. I wanted to take on the mission, I didn’t pay attention during the fight, Drift took a hit meant for me and…”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Ratchet said, tired. “I don’t blame you. I...know how Drift is. He’d rather do something stupid to make sure someone else is ok than look out for himself.”

“Still--”

“And,” Ratchet continued, “He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

Rodimus bit his lip and nodded slowly. For a moment he was silent, and Ratchet figured that was the end of the conversation until Rodimus spoke up suddenly,

“Is he really dead? Do you really think he’s gone?”

“...Not entirely.” Ratchet said carefully, “First Aid would have told us by now if he was a lost cause. I don’t feel him, but I figure something must be going right enough for them to have not given up yet.”

“Do you think there’s a chance then? That he’s gonna be ok?”

Ratchet closed his optics.

“I have to believe that. I have to trust in First Aid and Velocity.”

Rodimus didn’t have a chance to respond before a loud crashing noise caught everyone’s attention. Ratchet shot up, optics wide. It came from the medbay. He stared at the door for a moment before it slid open quickly and First Aid grabbed him by the arm, dragging him quickly towards the operating room Drift had been in.

“You. Come. _Now.”_ Aid rushed out, tugging on Ratchet with all his strength.

“First Aid, what’s going on?” Ratchet asked, stunned.

“It’s Drift.”

Ratchet wanted to question him further, but kept his mouth shut and instead focused on getting to the operating room as quickly as possible. He was distinctly aware of commotion behind him, likely the whole group following him and First Aid.

When Ratchet reached the room, he froze. Drift was up and about, looking a bit pale, but he was alive and breathing and that should have been everything Ratchet could have wanted but… But he was very clearly not in a good headspace. He had Velocity by the neck with his good arm and snarled at the sight of Ratchet and the others. His optics had an edge to them that Ratchet hadn’t seen since the early days of the war. Back when Drift was a Decepticon.

 _“Autobots.”_ Drift growled. “You think you can take me?”

“Drift, we aren’t looking to fight--” Ratchet began but was quickly cut off,

“Drift? I’m not Drift. I’m _Deadlock.”_


	2. Chapter 2

Ratchet was frozen in place at Drift’s words. To say this was not good did not even begin to describe how truly bad the situation was. If Drift believed he was Deadlock, they needed to be careful. Deadlock was everything Drift wasn’t-- brash, violent, and sadistic being some of the more memorable drastic traits that separated the two. Ratchet knew they needed to act quickly but cautiously or else it was very likely Deadlock would kill Velocity.

“Deadlock,” Ratchet forced himself to say, “Things aren’t what they seem. You aren’t surrounded by enemies, there’s no reason to harm her. There’s a lot of information you’re missing--”

“Shut up!” Deadlock snapped, “You think you can trick me? Sorry, but I won’t fall for it. I’m not stupid.”

Velocity whimpered as Drift--no, Deadlock, gripped her neck tighter. Rodimus let out a curse from somewhere behind Ratchet and tried to surge forward, but the medic stopped him quickly.

“Don’t!” He ordered, keeping a tight hold on Rodimus.

“If we don’t do something he’s going to kill her!” Rodimus said desperately, struggling against his hold.

“And you think he won’t do the same thing if you try charging at him like that?!” Ratchet hissed. Rodimus paused at that, biting his lip. It was obvious he wasn’t happy about being unable to help Velocity, but he knew Ratchet was right. “We have to be careful, Rodimus.”

“I know that, I do, I just…” Rodimus sighed heavily, shutting his optics tightly. “How is this even possible? This can’t be happening…”

Ratchet looked to Deadlock. The mech had his optics narrowed to a glare, looking right at Ratchet. He knew Deadlock was listening to every word they said, and he knew that he needed to be careful not to say something to accidentally set him off.

“When Magnus brought him in, I feared he had processor damage. I didn’t realize it was bad enough to give him severe amnesia. There were so many other physical injuries, I’d completely overlooked what effects his injuries could have had on his mind.” Ratchet said quietly. “This is my fault.”

“Now isn’t the time to be self deprecating,” First Aid reminded him, “We need to help Velocity!”

“Frankly, I don’t think there’s anything we can say that will make him let his guard down. He’s too unpredictable. He won’t listen to us.” Ratchet admitted, “But he might listen to Megatron.”

Rodimus nodded slowly. It was clear he didn’t like the idea of bringing Megatron into this, but there was no other option. Ratchet was right, Deadlock wouldn’t listen to them. Megatron was their best bet. But Megatron also wore an Autobot shield now. If Deadlock saw that and decided Megatron was an enemy now, too…

“Megatron?” Deadlock questioned, “What are you all saying about Megatron?”

“Megatron is aboard this ship.” Ultra Magnus said carefully.

“What, as a prisoner? I don’t believe you.”

“Not as a prisoner,” Magnus clarified, “As captain of this ship.”

That got Deadlock to pause and consider things. Finally, he let go of Velocity. She dropped in a heap at his peds, coughing and gasping for air. First Aid tried to get to her side, but Deadlock quickly stepped in front of her before he could get too far.

“She’s not in the clear yet.” He growled. “You bring Megatron to me and then we can talk about letting her go. Got it?”

“You two, be quick.” Ratchet told Rodimus and Magnus.

The pair nodded and left, though Rodimus did spare one more look at his amica.

“I want the rest of you to leave.” Deadlock said, nodding towards the door. “No one comes in until I speak to Megatron.”

Whirl laughed at that, making the Decepticon glare at him.

“You think we’re just gonna let you sit in here alone with a hostage? Yeah, don’t think so.” Whirl said, shaking his head, “We stay.”

“I could always kill her now and get it over with.” Deadlock threatened. “You want that? I’ll let you watch as I gut her--”

“Whirl, leave.” Ratchet snapped, turning to him and giving him a glare of his own. “All of you go. Don’t provoke him.”

Whirl scoffed, but did turn to leave, followed by Cyclonus. First Aid hesitated at the door, but ended up leaving all the same. Ratchet, however, didn’t move an inch. Deadlock didn’t seem mad that Ratchet hadn’t left though, just amused.

“You got damaged audials or something?” He asked, smirking, “Or are you feeling like you wanna try and be a hero.”

“I’m not going to try anything.” Ratchet said softly. “But I’m not going to leave you alone with Velocity either. You’ve injured her already and there’s nothing saying you won’t the second I leave.”

Deadlock hummed.

“What if I gave you my word?” He asked in a mocking tone. “Isn’t that enough for an Autobot like you?”

“If you’d asked me that yesterday or even earlier today, I would have said yes.” The medic admitted, “But when it comes to you, Deadlock, the answer is no. _Your_ word means nothing to me.”

“You aren’t as stupid as I remember you being.” Deadlock said with a small laugh.

Not much else was said until Megatron showed up. Enough time had passed for him to be filled in and come up with something, anything, to tell Deadlock to get him to stop acting hostile. The door swung open and Megatron stood there, an unreadable expression upon his face.

“Ratchet. You can leave us.” Megatron said, voice low and demanding.

Ratchet wasn’t sure he liked that tone, but he obeyed the order anyways. Megatron sounded far too much like his old self, but the medic had to have faith that he was playing it up to make Deadlock actually listen to him. Once the door shut behind him, Velocity’s fate was left to Megatron.

“Has she been injured?” Megatron asked, nodding towards Velocity.

“Not badly.” Deadlock said, shrugging. “But I can always change that.”

“I’m well aware you can.” The former warlord said, approaching Deadlock, “She won’t be harmed any further today. She’s your crewmate, not your enemy.”

Deadlock actually looked surprised to hear that. Though it was less that he was shocked Velocity was his crewmate and more surprised to hear that Megatron was telling him _not_ to kill someone. It was extremely rare he’d given the order not to kill, from what Deadlock could remember. Deadlock looked from Megatron to Velocity in shock.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not.” Megatron said, frowning. “Let her go. Now.”

“I...yeah, sure. Yeah.” Deadlock stepped away from Velocity and allowed her to scramble to the door. He watched her leave and reunite with the others, then immediately looked back to Megatron. He was confused. Thoroughly.

Megatron sighed, closing his optics for just a moment. He leaned against the nearest wall and motioned for Deadlock to sit on the medberth nearby.

“Take a seat.” He suggested, “This is going to be a long conversation.”

Deadlock nodded and did as told, but he seemed frustrated as he did. Megatron guessed he was upset he’d been told to spare Velocity. He hadn’t missed the childish pouting he’d get occasionally when he’d been ordered to do something he didn’t want.

“Things are not what they seem, Deadlock.”

“Obviously.”

“You’ve been injured and lost a large part of your memory, from what I can tell.” Megatron informed him carefully. “This may not be what you wish to hear, but the conflict between the Autobots and Decepticons is no more.”

Deadlock’s mouth fell open in shock. That...couldn’t be right.

“What?”

“The war is over.”

“We won, right?” Deadlock asked, though his optics were now staring at the Autobot insignia on Megatron’s chest. “We won and the Autobots...they do whatever you want. That’s why you’re captain of this ship and you’re wearing... _that_ symbol, right?”

Megatron considered his next words carefully. He definitely needed to be honest. That much he knew. But where did he begin? Drift was missing millions of years worth of information. He almost wished Rewind were here. He could show video proof of everything Megatron needed to tell him, but risking Rewind’s safety was something he knew wasn’t worth it. He supposed he should start with the most important piece of information and work from there.

“The Decepticons lost. I renounced being a Decepticon and joined the Autobots.” Megatron began, “You joined the Autobots as well. Long before I did.”

“I would _never--”_

“You did. And that’s alright.” He paused for a moment. “You were able to become a...different version of yourself, when you defected. A _happier_ version.”

Deadlock seemed skeptical, understandably.

“I’ve never been happier than when I was serving you.” He insisted. “You know that.”

That had been true at one point. In the beginning of the war, roughly the first couple thousand years, Deadlock had been overjoyed to belong to something and leave his old life behind. That much had been obvious. For him to say this now gave Megatron some context for just where in his life Deadlock believed he was.

“Perhaps in the beginning that was true. But I assure you, after the mistakes I made as a leader, more than just you were driven away.” Megatron sighed, “I don’t know exactly how much of your memory you lost. But it’s enough that you still trust me. You still seem to _like_ me. And if I’m right about that, I want you to trust that what I say now _is_ true. There is no more war, no more killing, no more hatred towards the Autobots.”

Deadlock sat in silence for a long, long while. It was a lot to process, and Megatron wanted to give him time to understand what he’d been told, but he was slightly worried Deadlock would refuse to accept that the war was over. What would he do then?

“I don’t believe you. Not really.” Deadlock admitted, frowning. “Why would the Autobots let you be captain of one of their ships if you lost the war?”

“It’s...a very long story. One that has very little to do with you, honestly.”

“Well I should know!” Deadlock insisted, “If you want me to believe you, you gotta give me more than just saying the war’s over, we can all go home now!”

Megatron hummed.

“Another day. For now, I’d rather get a medic back in here to make sure you haven’t irritated your injuries.”

“I don’t need a medic.”

“You do.”

Deadlock glared.

“I said I don’t need a _fucking_ medic.” He snapped.

Megatron pushed off the wall and moved towards Deadlock, startling him. Deadlock’s optics went wide and he shuffled backwards on the medberth a bit. The reaction made Megatron freeze. Deadlock was afraid of him. _Great._ He stopped where he was and glared at the door, frustrated.

“Let Ratchet check to make sure you’ve been properly taken care of. Then we can continue talking.”

“Yeah. Ok. I mean. Yes sir. Sure.” Deadlock mumbled, fidgeting with some tools that had been left on the medberth before he’d had his...outburst.

Megatron’s mouth twitched. It was odd, hearing Drift say things like that. He very much did not want to dwell on the thought and instead commed Ratchet to come inside. The medic wasted no time and had likely been waiting for an opportunity to check on his conjunx.

“Make sure he’s alright. I’ll be back.” Megatron muttered, leaving Deadlock to Ratchet.

There was a beat of silence before Deadlock cleared his vocalizer.

“What you said earlier. About things not being what they seemed. You weren’t kidding, huh.” He said, glancing at Ratchet.

Ratchet let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“You have no idea.” The medic said, shaking his head. “What did Megatron tell you?”

“He told me the war was over. That we lost.” Deadlock grumbled. “That I can’t kill you guys anymore, I guess.”

Ratchet rolled his optics, moving to gather a few tools he’d need to give Deadlock a check up.

“My spark weeps for you.” He said sarcastically. “Sit up straight. I need to check to make sure you didn’t reopen any of your welds.”

Deadlock reluctantly did as told.

“I’ll have First Aid send you a detailed report of your injuries. He’d know more than I would since he operated on you, not me.” Ratchet said as he worked, “That way you can be up to date on your condition as well as know what to avoid doing to irritate your injuries as you heal.”

“Wow that’ll do me a lot of good.” Deadlock scoffed, “What am I supposed to do with a report? I can’t read.”

Ratchet paused.

“I see.” He said, sighing. “I forgot that might be a possibility.”

“Am I supposed to know how to read now or something? That another thing I forgot?”

“You quite enjoy reading nowadays. You’re also a fairly talented writer, when you're writing speeches for Rodimus at least.” Ratchet said, trying hard to keep any fondness from his tone.

“Rodimus?” Deadlock questioned. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“You might remember him as Hot Rod. ...You two are close nowadays.”

Deadlock made a face at that, as if he couldn’t really imagine himself being _close_ to anyone. Though it was no surprise that Deadlock couldn’t remember his friendships, that didn’t make it any easier for Ratchet to accept. To say Drift and Rodimus were close was honestly an understatement. They were basically attached at the hip. And for Deadlock to not even remember that, or the _feeling_ of being close to Rodimus… It meant he definitely didn’t remember a thing about Ratchet aside from his name.

“You’re lucky you didn’t reopen your wounds.” Ratchet said, deciding to take the topic away from Drift’s current-day relationships. “Everything seems to be fine. I don’t know how, but Velocity and First Aid fixed you up nearly as good as new.”

“Lucky me.” Deadlock grumbled, “So if I lost my memories like this, that means I was pretty messed up before?”

“You were about two seconds away from bleeding out when you were brought to us.” Ratchet informed him, grabbing a nearby datapad and going through it. Luckily for him, First Aid had managed to make some notes on Drift’s condition before he’d woken up and attacked Velocity. “I remember you were down an arm and a leg, but it would seem _Velocity_ fixed that for you.”

“She’s the one I tried to kill, right?”

“Yes.” Ratchet said, setting the datapad aside. “You should apologize to her.”

Deadlock laughed at that.

“Yeah, good luck getting me to do that.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m not sorry for what I did, so I’m not gonna act like I am.”

Ratchet sighed. Drift really had been a handful before he’d become an Autobot. How had Megatron dealt with this for as long as he had?

“Do what you want, then.” The medic muttered, shaking his head. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter? Damn, Ratchet, your bedside manners have gotten pretty bad, huh.” Deadlock asked with a smirk. “You used to be so nice.”

Ratchet gave him a curious look and though Deadlock definitely didn’t know how to read him as well as Drift could, he could still see the small hint of _hope_ in his optics.

“So you do remember me?” He asked, “To an extent.”

“I remember you a little bit. I remember the Dead End.” Deadlock shrugged. “You said a lot of nice things that day. Guess I disappointed you. I’d say I’m sorry but…”

“You aren’t.”

“Not one bit.” Deadlock confirmed. “Did I become that great bot you said I could be? Is that why you’re so bitter I am the way I am now?”

Ratchet looked away from him, glaring at the wall instead of facing Deadlock.

“I’m not bitter.”

“You are. I don’t really care why you’re bitter, but it’s funny to me. We’re supposed to be enemies and here you are acting all sad that I’m hurt and losing my memories or whatever. What, are we close now or something? Like I am with Rodimus or whoever?” Deadlock leaned forward, grinning, obviously trying to get some kind of reaction out of Ratchet.

It worked. A little too well. Ratchet snapped, growling and facing Deadlock, optics filled not with anger but with _pain._ It wasn’t the look Deadlock had anticipated from him.

“Close doesn’t begin to describe what we were.” Ratchet said, “I know you can’t remember anything and it isn’t your fault you’re like this right now, but for the sake of everyone around you just shut your damn mouth. Shut up and stop trying to provoke everyone. Maybe then you’ll start to understand how serious this is for all of us.”

Ratchet didn’t let Deadlock get the last word after that. He stormed out of the room, not caring if he was overreacting or causing a scene. If Deadlock could just understand how difficult this was for him… But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Deadlock didn’t understand, and he didn’t seem to want to. 

Deadlock wasn’t left alone for longer than a minute before Megatron came back. He was glad to see Megatron, almost. It meant he didn’t have to think too hard about the things Ratchet had said or why he felt ever so slightly _horrible_ for making Ratchet upset.

“You look mad.” Deadlock noted.

“I just had to deal with a very angry medic ranting at me to fix this.” Megatron said, “As if it will be that easy.”

“Aww was he really that mad?” Deadlock rolled his optics, pushing away the uncomfortable feeling of guilt rising inside of him. “I don’t get why he’s so upset over this. It isn’t like he’s the one who just lost his memories or something.”

“He’s your conjunx. Your hardships may as well be considered his also.”

Deadlock tensed. _Conjunx?_ There was no way he’d heard that right. Ratchet had said they were close...well, he’d said close didn’t describe it, but that could mean anything! They could just be really, really good friends, best friends even! But closer than close, well, that could very well mean exactly what Megatron had said. Oh Primus, there was no way this was happening.

“What?” He said dumbly, optics wide. “Ratchet’s my _what?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I rewrote this actually 4 times and I'm still not happy with it, but I can't look at it anymore so take it. Deadlock honestly can't compute how he managed to tap the medic of his wet dreams, more at 7.


	3. Chapter 3

In the days following Deadlock’s initial outburst, he’d been filled in on a lot. Through many talks with Megatron, he found out more about his relationship with his supposed conjunx Ratchet, that apparently Rodimus was his amica, and that the new version of himself was some kind of hippie spiritualist. Deadlock had cringed when Megatron explained Drift’s deep belief in Spectralism. It was such a far cry from who he remembered himself being…

It was hard to accept he’d changed so drastically, but it was becoming harder to accept Megatron seemed to  _ prefer  _ this new version of Deadlock. Megatron had once been so proud of Deadlock’s abilities, so willing to put them to the test… Now he just looked disappointed at Deadlock’s violent tendencies. Megatron was the only person around Deadlock that he could remember and yet he felt like more of a stranger than any of them.

Quickly, the talks with Megatron turned into something that Deadlock dreaded. Unfortunately, he was still recovering from his injuries and forced to stay in the medbay for the time being, so when Megatron came to fill him in more on the present day he had nowhere to go. Of course, he’d tried to escape more than once, but he quickly learned that, conjunx or not, Ratchet was not one for putting up with his nonsense. Deadlock wouldn’t get more than a few steps out of his room before something would be thrown his way, just narrowly missing his helm, followed by some colorful choice words from the Lost Light’s former CMO.

Right, Ratchet was a “former” Chief Medical Officer. Deadlock was a bit surprised to hear that, in all honesty. The Ratchet he remembered didn’t seem like he’d ever want to give that position up once he’d gotten it. It was a big responsibility, sure, but Ratchet had seemed to handle it just fine from Deadlock’s view. Maybe that’s what conjunxing did to a bot. Made them soft and ready to do things like retire.

Deadlock made a face at the thought. He did not want to think about being conjunxed to Ratchet right now. Not when said bot was giving him his last check up before he’d be cleared to leave the blasted medbay, hopefully once and for all.

“Did that hurt?” Ratchet asked, having quickly noticed the look of distaste Deadlock had pulled. He was in the middle of checking to make sure Deadlock’s arm could bend properly and though he wanted this to be over as quickly as possible, he wanted to be thorough. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he overlooked a complication just because this was hard for him.

Deadlock scoffed and yanked his arm away from Ratchet’s gentle hold.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Can I go now?” He asked, frowning.

“I still need to check your other arm.”

“Can’t First Aid or someone else do it?” Deadlock asked before really thinking the question through. In all honesty, he didn’t like First Aid. Ratchet was the better option, even if it was...awkward.

Ratchet sighed, clearly tired. Deadlock hadn’t been an easy patient to deal with. He might have felt bad for making Ratchet’s life harder the past few days if it weren’t easier to just keep doing it and not think about the consequences of his actions.

“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.” Ratchet said honestly. “First Aid is occupied right now, but I can see if Velocity can finish this.”

“It’s fine.” Deadlock grunted. “Just be quick. I wanna get out of here. I have things to do.”

“Right, because you’re a busy mech right now.”

There was some of that Ratchet level snark. That was more normal, closer to what Deadlock expected from the medic. He liked being able to feel like he could predict him. It was far more comfortable when they stuck to the script Deadlock had in his head. Deadlock would say something crass, Ratchet would roll his optics and nag at him, say something totally inappropriate for a medic to say, rinse, repeat.

“I’ll be busy getting familiar with the ship.” Deadlock said, “Rodimus said I’m free to go wherever I want, so I’m taking full advantage.”

“I still don’t understand why he’s letting you roam the ship unsupervised.” Ratchet grumbled, moving to check the mobility on Deadlock’s other arm.

“He feels bad, or something. I dunno. I just know the look on his face was hilarious when he told me I was free to do what I wanted.” Deadlock smirked. “He looked so pathetic.”

Ratchet stilled in his movements for just a second. Deadlock figured he wanted to say about a hundred things to that, but instead...he said nothing. Not for the rest of the check up. Once he was done, he made some notes on a datapad and motioned vaguely towards the door.

“You can go now.”

Deadlock stood there for a moment, giving Ratchet a curious look.

“What’d I say?”

“What do you mean, Deadlock?” Ratchet asked stiffly, not looking up from his datapad.

“You’re mad at me cuz of what I said about Rodimus, is that it?”

Ratchet frowned.

“Does it matter?”

“...No, it doesn’t. Not really.”

“Then go.”

Deadlock fought to keep the confusing feelings of regret buried deep. He didn’t want Ratchet’s odd reactions to mean anything to him, so he simply nodded, opted not to think about it, and left. He made his way to the bridge where Rodimus and Ultra Magnus were waiting for him. Megatron was nowhere to be found and Deadlock wasn’t sure if he was glad for it or disappointed.

“All clear?” Rodimus asked.

“Got the bill of clean health from the Hatchet himself.” Deadlock confirmed. “I can do what I want now, right?”

Ultra Magnus glanced down at Rodimus, a slightly disappointed look playing on his face, but he said nothing as Rodimus nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, you can do whatever you want. Whatever makes you feel at home or comfortable, Dr-Deadlock.” The red mech said with an incredibly fake smile, “If you need anything just comm me. Anything at all.”

“Sure, buddy.” Deadlock said, noting the way Rodimus’ optics lit up at the term of endearment. He tucked that observation away for later. Rodimus was so desperate to make him happy, it almost wouldn’t be fun to mess with him. Almost.

But messing with Rodimus would be saved for later. Right now, he had a ship to explore. He gave a noncommittal wave before turning away from Rodimus and Magnus and beginning his mission: find out where they keep the weapons and  _ have fun. _

As it turns out, they had an incredibly questionable scientist on board who liked making even more questionable weapons. And, as it turned out, he was more than willing to hand several over for a test run. Or five.

Deadlock, naturally, asked for the finest blasters the scientist, Brainstorm, had on hand. Brainstorm had given him some pretty high powered blasters and shown him where he could test them out. All the while Brainstorm’s friends tagged along. The small one, Rewind, had commented on wanting to see Deadlock in action. The taller one, Chromedome? Domey? It changed depending who was talking to him. He was less enthused by the idea.

“He just recovered from a serious injury, he still has amnesia; does anyone else think this is a really bad idea?” Chromedome was asking as Brainstorm finished setting up the targets for Deadlock to test the blasters on.

“He says he remembers how to shoot.” Brainstorm said, as if that made anything better.

“And? I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Think about it this way, Domey,” Rewind said, “We’re all already here in case something goes wrong.”

“Rewind…” Chromedome sighed heavily. “I expected something like this from Brainstorm, but I didn’t expect you to go along with it. But fine, don’t listen to me and let the amnesiac Decepticon try to be a gunslinger.”

“Sorry, Domey, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” Rewind turned his recorder on and turned towards Deadlock. “I don’t want to pass this up; there’s not a lot of footage of when Drift was Deadlock.”

Deadlock looked at the minibot, curious.

“Why’s that?”

“Not a lot of bots lived after an encounter with you. There was no one to get footage from.” Rewind explained.

Deadlock let out a small laugh and turned his attention towards the targets Brainstorm had set up. Well, he figured, might as well show them why there were so few survivors. He drew his blasters and began firing. He felt his ego inflate as he watched every shot he fired hit the bullseye.

He emptied the ammo on the first blaster and reloaded, only to empty the next clip in seconds, every shot hitting the center of the targets. When he reloaded next, he spiced it up and aimed for the heads of the targets instead of the bright red bullseyes on the chest. He didn’t need a marker to indicate where to shoot-- he could still hit every shot perfectly without it.

He kept going until he ran through all the ammo Brainstorm had given him. When the last shot went off and, as predicted, hit the target square in the head, he heard an impressed whistle from the doorway.

Whirl stood in the doorway, arms crossed, optic glinting in amusement.

“Hey, hey, who said we could have a party without inviting me?” The bot asked as he walked fully into the room. “This looks like a whole lot of bad choices happening and frankly, I’m insulted I wasn’t asked to participate.”

Chromedome aggressively face palmed.

“Thank Primus the ammo is already gone…” He murmured.

“Wh-- Gone?!” Whirl’s optic widened slightly. “Ok, now I really am insulted. Brainstorm you have more, right? Right?”

“It’s an experimental blaster, that was actually all I had.” The scientist said, “But...I have more experimental weapons if we’re all up for a fun time--”

“No! Nope, no, I draw the line here.” Chromedome said, grabbing Brainstorm by the arm and beginning to forcefully drag him from the room. “You’ve had your fun, Deadlock got to show off, we’re lucky nothing  _ exploded. _ Let’s call it a day and go.”

Deadlock watched with amusement as Chromedome dragged Brainstorm away, followed closely by Rewind. He twirled the now emptied blaster in his hand before turning his attention back to Whirl. He remembered him from the first day he woke up like this. Whirl hadn’t seemed to trust him back then, so Deadlock didn’t understand why he was trying to act casual now.

It was best to be on guard, he figured.

“Are the blasters really empty?” Whirl asked suddenly.

“Yep.”

“Damn. Well. Not like I could use those anyways, not with these.” Whirl held up his claws.  _ Empurata, _ Deadlock recognized. Before he could even think of commenting on it, Whirl dropped his claws and looked at the targets Deadlock had been shooting at. “Wow, you really did a number on those things.”

“I had a crowd. Thought it’d be nice to give ‘em a show.”

“Hah, right, just admit it, you wanted to be a show off.” Whirl’s tone was light as he spoke, as if he understood that desire to want to give a chaotic spectacle when given the opportunity. “I’m jealous. Brainstorm stopped letting me experiment with his weapons.”

“Why’s that?”

Whirl sighed, long and overaggerated.

“Let’s just say conjunxes are a pain when they interfere in your  _ extracurriculars.” _ He nudged Deadlock, “You’d understand that, eh Drift?”

“Not Drift,” Deadlock said sternly, swatting Whirl away. The mech didn’t seem offended by the gesture. “And no, conjunxes aren’t really on the list of things I understand right now.”

“Oh, right.” Whirl hummed. “Forgot for a second.”

Deadlock highly doubted that. Whirl was playing at something here and Deadlock didn’t like it one bit. He narrowed his optics a bit, not bothering to keep the slight irritation at Whirl’s “slip up” a secret.

“Sure you did.” Deadlock muttered.

“So I take it Megatron’s got you all caught up on the what, couple million years of history you’re missing?” Whirl asked as he waltzed over to the targets to inspect the damage done to them, “Wow, this is actually pretty impressive.”

“Megatron has me caught up with what he felt was essential.”

“Cool, cool. So you know all about the war ending and Megatron ending up with us, and your exile and all of that fun stuff.”

Megatron had mentioned Drift’s role on the Lost Light mostly in passing. His exile had come up, but it had been clear Megatron didn’t have the finer details of the event. Megatron had glossed over it as much as possible, instead opting to reassure him the issue of his exile had been fixed and he was more than welcome aboard the ship nowadays. He’d even stressed that Drift had many friends among the Lost Light crew. As if it mattered to him as Deadlock.

“He told me about it but said I should talk to Rodimus to get more details about it.” Deadlock said.

“Are you going to talk to Rodimus?” Whirl asked, turning and looking at Deadlock with a challenging look in his optic. “About any of it?”

Was that his game here? Trying to get Deadlock to talk to Rodimus? Deadlock scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why should I? It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care what happened to the old me.” Or the new him, really, “What Rodimus has to say to me doesn’t matter.”

“But what Megatron says matters.”

“Well…” Deadlock faltered. “Of course it does.”

“Why?”

“He’s…”

“He’s your leader, that’s what you want to say, right?” Whirl asked. “Newsflash, you aren’t a Decepticon anymore. Megatron isn’t either, and he sure as hell isn’t your leader anymore. Why should anything he has to say to you matter?”

“He...He knows me.” Deadlock said quietly.

Whirl narrowed his optic.

“Does he?”

He knew _ Deadlock. _ He knew who Deadlock used to be and that’s all that had mattered the past few days. The others all knew  _ Drift, _ the spiritualist, the swordsman, the loner, the best friend, the lover. Megatron had known him before all of that. He was the attachment to the past, the thing that was allowing him to not have to face the future.

“The people who  _ know _ you are Rodimus and Ratchet. They’re the ones who can give you better information on who you are, why you changed the things you did, all of that. You don’t have to like who you are now, but you should at least understand  _ why _ you’re a different person instead of deciding outright that you don’t like it.” Whirl said. “And if you _ don’t _ like it? If you don’t want to be ‘Drift’ anymore? Ratchet and Rodimus will _ still  _ be there. I guarantee it.”

Deadlock barely had time to process Whirl’s words before the mech decided for himself the conversation was over, heading for the door.

“Nice shooting, by the way,” Whirl said lightly, and then he was gone.

Deadlock didn’t know why, but Whirl’s words stuck with him for the rest of the day. Even after he’d been left to do as he pleased, he couldn’t quite shake what Whirl had said to him. He blamed Whirl for ending up outside of Ratchet’s habsuite later in the evening. Or should he call it their shared hab? Deadlock pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time.

He raised a hand to knock at the door, but hesitated at the last second.

It was late. Ratchet was probably asleep like most of the crew seemed to be at this hour, but...something told Deadlock he wasn’t. A feeling like he knew Ratchet was the type to stay up late into the night, working on something most likely.

Before he could decide whether this was something he truly wanted to do, fate decided for him. The door swung open and he was face to face with Ratchet. The medic seemed surprised to see him. Deadlock could only guess his own expression was as stunned as Ratchet’s, despite having been the one who’d been trying to initiate the confrontation in the first place.

“I thought I heard someone outside. I didn’t think it’d be you.”

“I...uh…” Deadlock reset his vocalizer and tried again, “I can go.”

“You don’t have to.” Ratchet said quickly. “Not like I was doing anything important anyways.”

Deadlock nodded, shifting awkwardly where he stood. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, not really. Sure he’d wanted to talk to Ratchet but now that he was here, what did he say?

“I think we need to talk.” He said, not liking how uncertain his voice sounded to his own audials.

Ratchet let out a small, exasperated laugh.

“That’s an understatement.” The medic murmured. There was a beat of silence before Ratchet moved aside and gestured for Deadlock to come in. “Well? Are you waiting for an invitation? You live here too, technically.”

“Right.” Deadlock walked in, taking note of everything he could. The room felt oddly foreign. He had no memory or feeling like he belonged in the room. Even as he saw the things that were likely supposed to be his, he still didn’t feel like he was...home.

Ratchet didn’t seem to notice his curiosity, or at least if he did he didn’t say anything about it. Instead the medic readied some fuel for them both and moved to sit on the rather plush couch near the center of the room. He moved aside some datapads, likely medical files he’d been reviewing, and waited for Deadlock to join him. Deadlock did, uncharacteristically speechless as he tried to take everything in.

This was becoming a lot to deal with, very quickly.

“I imagine we’ll be talking for a while, if everything goes well.” Ratchet said, offering him some energon.

Deadlock took it and nodded.

“Yeah. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“No kidding.” Ratchet sighed. “So, where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Brainstorm and Deadlock become friends, the Lost Light will never catch a break with their shenanigans... Hope you enjoy the chapter! I had less of a horrible time writing this one than I did the last one! <3


	4. Chapter 4

Figuring out where to begin was easier said than done. There were roughly a thousand places they could start this conversation and Deadlock didn’t know  _ where _ to begin. He was missing millions of years of information and while Whirl had ended up convincing him to seek out more information, that didn’t mean he was suddenly eager to have this conversation.

He was quiet as he thought. Where was the best place to start? With the war? The Lost Light itself perhaps? His relationship with Ratchet or Rodimus? Too many topics to choose from and too many unknowns for any of those to feel remotely like comfortable starting points. In the end, he decided information on his place in the war probably had the least potential to blow up and turn ugly. There were only facts involved in that topic, nothing complicated like emotions…

“I guess I could use some clarification on why I switched sides.” Deadlock suggested, shrugging. “Megatron explained I became an Autobot but he obviously doesn’t know a lot about me past that.”

“A lot of your transformation from Deadlock to Drift happened before you became close to any of us.” Ratchet explained, “But I know the basics. You wound up in Crystal City, and ended up being taken in by the Circle of Light. Their influence on you was...well, it changed your life. A lot of that change is credited to a bot named Wing… You spoke highly of him in the past.”

“Wing.” Deadlock repeated the name, frowning. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Ratchet sighed and nodded.

“That’s to be expected.” He admitted. “Either way, Wing helped you. You obviously took a lot of what he said to spark. You became dedicated to his teachings and the ways of Spectralism.”

“I became a hippie spiritualist.” Deadlock stated, clearly not pleased. “Still sounds like bullshit to me, but ok.”

“Honestly, it is sometimes. Bullshit, as you put it.” Ratchet said with a small laugh. “But it’s bullshit that helps you, so I try not to complain too much.”

Deadlock paused at that. It helped him. How? How would committing himself to a false god do anything good for him? Had he really gained the ability to delude himself so much?

“This just doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“You’re a different person now.” Ratchet stated plainly. “You changed a lot over a couple million years. Who wouldn’t? You’re still stubborn, and frustrating as all hell, but you’re...content. Happy with who you are, for the most part. That’s more than a lot of us can say.”

Ratchet took a sip from his fuel, giving Deadlock a knowing look. Deadlock’s mouth twitched at the implication he wasn’t happy with the person he was currently. As proud of his ruthlessness and his abilities on the battlefield as he was, there was a certain truth to the implication. His past, the skills he was lacking...of course he wasn’t happy with those things.

Deadlock cleared his vocalizer awkwardly, averting his optics.

“So where’s this Circle of Light and Wing now? If they had such a big impact shouldn’t Wing be my amica or something instead of that Rodimus guy?”

“They’re dead.” Ratchet said.

“Well, you’re nothing if not direct.”

“There’s no point in beating around the bush. It isn’t like you remember them enough to care.”

“Fair.” Deadlock said, taking a sip of his energon. “Anything else I should know?”

“You eventually ended up joining the Autobots in battle, you met Rodimus, you two became close. By the time Lost Light launched, you two were nearly inseparable. That catches you up with your changes during the war, I believe.” Ratchet said, “Of course there’s everything after that,”

“Megatron told me about what he knows. The whole...Overlord thing, or whatever? That was important, I think.”

“He wasn’t there for that.” Ratchet clarified. “But yes, that was important.”

Deadlock just shrugged.

“I obviously lived through the fight. I don’t really care what else happened.”

Ratchet sighed, but nodded anyways.

“Alright. That’s always something we can visit later.”

“Sure, sure. So what I’ve gathered is I was inducted into a cult and found Primus, and now I’m super happy with everything. Amazing. I’m feeling really great about the future, Ratch.”

The usage of the nickname slipped past Deadlock’s notice. There was the briefest change in Ratchet’s expression, one that was pure fondness, but it only lasted a second. Deadlock didn’t catch it, so Ratchet didn’t mention it. Instead, he cleared his vocalizer and continued on as if the slip had never happened.

“Sorry to break it to you, but there’s more than just that.” Ratchet said, though he didn’t even try to seem apologetic in the slightest.

Deadlock scoffed.

“Right. There’s only a billion other things we should go over…”

He wasn’t eager to, but Whirl’s words rang through his processor. He just needed to understand  _ why _ he’d changed. He wasn’t going to be forced to like those changes, well, not according to Whirl… Deadlock didn’t exactly trust him, but...Ratchet was supposed to be his conjunx, right? He should be able to accept it if Deadlock didn’t want to try to be the person he used to be.

“Are you ok?” Ratchet asked, this time seeming genuinely concerned. “Talking about all of this… Are you really ok with that?”

“I kind of have to be.” Deadlock said. “Look, I just...I wanna try to understand all of this. But I’m not promising to accept everything, ok? And not just the hippie shit, that applies to everything. Even you.”

“I wouldn’t force our relationship on you.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” Deadlock said flippantly, “Maybe you won’t force this whole conjunx thing on me, but the other option is to play by my rules.”

“And if I’m willing to do that?”

Ratchet was clearly challenging him here. There was a look in his optics that Deadlock just knew meant he wouldn’t back down from this, and for a moment that worried him. Ratchet had said he wouldn’t force their relationship on him, but it wasn’t like Deadlock really believed that. It wasn’t until some pull in his spark convinced him otherwise. If he made hard limits to what was acceptable, Pit, if he cut the relationship off entirely and never looked back? Something told him Ratchet would respect that, even if it made the medic miserable to do so.

“You wouldn’t like my rules.” Deadlock said softly. “It wouldn’t be worth your time.”

“Deadlock, I meant it when I said I won’t force this on you. That being said, I’m not going to give you up so easily. You can sit here and tell me you want nothing to do with me, you want me to leave you alone, and I’ll do that. But if there’s a _ chance  _ I can convince you being my conjunx wasn’t some mistake? I’ll be damned if I throw that away. You set the rules, I’ll follow them. It’s as simple as that.”

Deadlock was speechless. What was he supposed to say to that? He’d never had someone willing to fight for him like this. He didn’t even remember his relationship with Ratchet and here the medic was, determined to do whatever it took, or so it seemed. He had no reason to do that. This would be the golden opportunity to turn and continue on with his life, maybe mess around with someone else because his relationship had fell through spectacularly thanks to Drift’s amnesia. But...Ratchet was committed. Primus, he was  _ serious _ about Deadlock.

“You want me even when I’m like this?” Deadlock asked, stunned. “I’m not...I’m nothing like the version of me you know. You get that, right?”

“When we had our conjunx ceremony, I promised you I’d cherish every part of you. That included your past and the darker parts of you.” Ratchet said easily. “No matter what name you take or what your attitude is, you’re still _ you.” _

“I’m still me.” Deadlock repeated, raising an optic ridge in amusement. “That’s bold of you to say when we’re still figuring out who ‘me’ is.”

“Your memories could always start to come back and help you with that.” The medic said, sounding less hopeful but more analytical. “The more you continue to interact with others and talk about past experiences, the better the chances are of a memory triggering. Once it begins, Rung believes it will be easier to get everything to come back in time.”

Deadlock hummed.

“And if it doesn’t? What if it never comes back,  _ any _ of it. Nothing’s triggered a memory so far. I might never get my memories back, I know that’s something you and First Aid talked about while I was still in the medbay. My memories won’t come back, not tomorrow, not today, maybe not  _ ever.  _ What then?”

“Then I guess I have my work cut out for me.”

Deadlock smirked,

“You’re serious about this, then. Alright. I’ll play.” He said, “But I meant it when you said you won’t like the _ rules  _ to this game.”

“Whatever you come up with, I’ll accept it.”

“Well to start, we aren’t in a relationship right now. Or a courtship, not really.” Deadlock began, “Rule number one is you don’t treat me like I’m your property. I don’t care what we are legally or whatever bond we technically have, I don’t know you yet so you have to respect that.”

Ratchet nodded.

“I can do that.”

“Don’t get jealous either. That’s gross.”

“Not the jealous type anyways.” Ratchet said with a shrug.

That was good to hear. Maybe Drift wasn’t totally insane for conjunxing Ratchet after all. He seemed respectful enough and driven, and Deadlock always did like a bit of a challenge. Ratchet clearly could provide that… Maybe he wasn’t as different as he’d initially thought in the present day.

“Don’t expect me to frag you either.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Alright then.” Deadlock said, leaning back a bit, pleased, “I’m down trying to understand you better. I don’t mind trying to be…”

“Friends?” Ratchet provided, smirking. “Is that such a hard word to say?”

“I’m a Decepticon, we don’t  _ do _ friends.” Deadlock grumbled, “Though I guess since the war’s over and all that, yes, we can try to be _ friends. _ Happy now?”

“Extremely.”

“I oughtta wipe that smug look off your face.” It was an empty threat, and they both knew it, “So we start with...friends. But if that’s all I want, or I don’t like where it’s going, you back off. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Well this went better than I expected.” Deadlock said, humming. “If only everyone was this quick to agree to what I want.”

“Good luck with that. Half this ship doesn’t trust you like this.”

“I noticed. That big guy? Ultra Magnus? He clearly isn’t a big fan of me. But Rodimus outranks him and that’s all that matters. As long as Rodimus lets me do what I want, no one can say a word about it.”

“About Rodimus,” Ratchet began, causing Deadlock to roll his optics.

It was no secret Deadlock didn’t particularly like Rodimus so far. Ratchet was sure even Rodimus himself knew, but didn’t want to admit it out loud. Rodimus hadn’t done anything, it was more that Deadlock had woken up one day and decided he didn’t like or respect the red mech.

“He’s my amica, right? I did a real bang up job picking that one, huh.” Deadlock mumbled, clearly not happy. “He’s so…”

“Rodimus is a case, I’ll give you that, but he’s important to you.” Ratchet said carefully.

“I don’t get why.” The mech said, setting his fuel aside and frowning.

“I don’t pretend to understand the bond you and Rodimus have, but if you can give me a chance to prove to you our own bond is worth something, you should give Rodimus the same courtesy.”

Deadlock gave him a look, one that told Ratchet to tread carefully.

“Give me one good reason why I should.”

“He makes you happy.” Ratchet stated, “I don’t have to understand your bond to see that. He’s your best friend, you both make each other better versions of yourselves. And I know you don’t remember, and you might not believe me, but you trust him. Anything you ever told me about your past, you told Rodimus first and he accepted you with open arms. ...When you first became an Autobot, he accepted you far quicker than most. Quicker than I did.”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Deadlock grumbled. “I asked for one reason, not like, five.”

“I’d argue I gave you six reasons.” Ratchet said with a smirk.

Deadlock huffed and lightly kicked him.

“Shut it, smartaft.”

There was a moment of peaceful silence that came over the pair. It gave Deadlock a moment to think and consider all that had been talked about. It certainly wasn’t everything, but it was more than enough for right now. He’d learned about himself, and while he didn’t like everything he’d heard, Whirl was right that it was better to understand. Not that he’d tell the other mech that. No, he’d never admit that part out loud.

“It’s late,” Deadlock said lamely, hoping that was indicator enough that this was enough for one night.

Ratchet hummed in agreement.

“So it is.” The medic said quietly. “I suppose I technically should recharge soon. Early shift and all.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.”

Deadlock stood and headed for the door, closely followed by Ratchet. Strangely, the other mech’s presence behind him wasn’t threatening in the slightest. It was rather comforting, actually. It let Deadlock feel good about himself when he reached the door. Like this had been worth it.

“Thanks for talking tonight.” Deadlock said awkwardly, clearly not used to being so polite. “I’m not gonna lie and say it helped a ton and everything’s fine now, but it cleared up some of my confusion. And...I guess I’ll talk to Rodimus when I catch him next. Give him a shot and all that.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

Deadlock nodded.

“I’ll see you around then, Ratchet.”

“I’ll see you later, Deadlock.”

With that, Deadlock turned and left, just barely hiding the small smile on his face. It did something to him, hearing Ratchet use _ his  _ designation like that. It felt good, it made him feel confident. He knew Ratchet wasn’t just using it to be polite, he was using the name because he respected Deadlock’s mental place. Maybe...just maybe, giving Ratchet a chance wasn’t such a bad idea. He was beginning to think that medic might win him over after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist: I'm not dead. Sorry this took so long, I knew exactly how I wanted this to go but I struggled with writing so much for a while and I decided to just take a break. Apparently it helped, because I'm actually relatively pleased with this chapter! I hope it's ok and so sorry for the wait!

**Author's Note:**

> I do not know what possessed me to write this. Life is hard right now so I guess I gotta put Drift and Ratchet through the wringer! I also experimented with style here so hopefully it ended up alright to read. And as most things do with MTMTE, it is going to get worse before it gets better :)
> 
> Thank you so so much to Hypo for helping me with the summary. I SUCK at summaries.


End file.
